Col. I was once with Him and some other Company over a Bottle; and, egad, he fell asleep, and snor’d so hard, that we thought he was driving his Hogs to Market.
Neverout. Why, what! you can have no more of a Cat than her Skin; you can’t make a Silk Purse out of a Sow’s Ear.
Ld. Sparkish. Well, since he’s gone, the Devil go with him and Sixpence; and there’s Money and Company too.
Neverout. Faith, he’s a true Country Put. Pray, Miss, let me ask you a Question?
Miss. Well; but don’t ask Questions with a dirty Face: I warrant, what you have to say will keep cold.
Col. Come, my Lord, against you are disposed; Here’s to all that love and honour you.
Ld. Sparkish. Ay, that was always Dick Nimble’s Health. I’m sure you know he’s dead.
Col. Dead! Well, my Lord, you love to be a Messenger of ill News: I’m heartily sorry; but, my Lord, we must all die.
Neverout. I knew him very well: But, pray, how came he to die?